


Trust, Soon Enough

by Shabby Abby (KJPearl)



Category: Friends at the Table (Podcast)
Genre: Crushes, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, FatT Rarepair Swap, Isolation, Loneliness, M/M, Other, Spaceships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-03
Updated: 2018-06-03
Packaged: 2019-05-17 21:30:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,914
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14839515
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KJPearl/pseuds/Shabby%20Abby
Summary: Sokrates just came here to join OriCon and the Diaspora's best soldiers and stop a super weapon. They didn't realize that the best soldiers were also the most unfairly attractive.





	Trust, Soon Enough

**Author's Note:**

  * For [3RatMoon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/3RatMoon/gifts).



It wasn't fair, Sokrates sometime found themself thinking, that their enemies were so attractive. Or, no longer enemies but allies, now that they had abandoned their home and their people. It was worth it, of course. Ever since they’d seen the Apostolisian weapon, the terrible potential for destruction they had helped to build, they knew they had to leave. They couldn’t support the empire any more.

So Sokrates left, and allied themselves with the vast forces of OriCon and the Diaspora. It was the right decision, but that didn’t make it any less hard when they lay alone late at night in their quarters on the Calliope. The neverending war, not even fighting in skirmishes but instead endless travel through the sector, grated on Sokrates. They were bored out of their mind and starting to lose faith in their new partners.

It was easier to have hope when they saw Jace running drills in his panther. All coiled potential, graceful swinging as the mech broke apart and rebuilt itself through every maneuver. It fit Jace, who moved carefully between the cracks of all three crews, trying to bond them as though his kindness could be glue. Since the alliance he had often been partnered with Addax and it was no surprise as to why. The two fit like matching puzzle pieces  which had been searching their whole lives for each other. Jace was the only one who could break through Addax’s tough façade, pulling out his deep laugh with a sly joke. Addax was the only person who could calm Jace when he began to panic over the constant threat which hung over them all. The two were entirely unsubtle about their developing feelings, and it was obvious to everyone except, ironically, each other.

Addax had been the first to draw Sokrates’s eye; he knew how to make an entrance if nothing else. Sokrates remembered when he first landed. Peace was a golden beacon coming to dock alongside the Seventh Sun. Addax had stepped out in full pilot gear, including the helmet Sokrates soon came to realize was more aesthetic than necessity. When he pulled the helmet off with a toss of his head, shaking his plum curls, Sokrates was certain half the crew had fallen in love. No one could fault them a single appreciative look. If only it had stopped then. 

There was a tragedy to Addax, who fought as though he had been trained for it from birth  — which he damn near had been. Sokrates didn’t trust the Diaspora and their divines, these strange robotic parasites that they raised into the pillars of their society. And Addax didn’t trust them any more then they trusted him. The pilot was brash and proud, he never saw a disagreement he didn’t turn into a fight, and he made it plain he expected Sokrates to betray their alliance. What a fool. As though they would abandon their whole kingdom and the position as next in line to the throne, in order to become a hated traitor if they weren’t honestly committed to peace. Committed in a way that the warmongering candidate of Peace would never understand.

It had been a long day of futile debate and dinners on the Kingdom Come, the OriCon ship they weren’t quite forbidden from but weren’t welcomed to either, when they ran into Addax and had their first real conversation. Addax pulled them aside as they walked down an empty hallway.

“I don’t know what you think you were pulling today!” Addax said.

“What I- Pulling?” Sokrates sputtered.

“Suggesting we share information, even ship systems, across the crews. Are you out of your mind?” Addax was tense with fury, backing Sokrates up against the wall and they quickly became hyper-aware of how close he was standing.

“No,” they defended, “I was just pointing out — perfectly reasonably — that we could get a lot more done if we weren’t so busy hiding all our intel form our own allies.”

“You would say that,” Addax spit out, “if you were a spy.”

“I would also say it if I had eyes in my head. I don’t like you Addax, but we can’t be at each other's throats all the time if we want to survive this war,” and with that they stormed off.

Jace was something else, pretty but not as striking as Addax, that crush hadn’t really hit Sokrates until they started speaking. Jace held a near desperate hope for the union their crews represented. Unlike Addax, who Sokrates had noticed sizing up every non-Diasporan mech for weaknesses, or Orth, whose nervous micromanaging  of his crew was only worsened in his impotent hovering over the others, Jace sought connection. He spent meals with people from every faction. Sokrates had admired his careful rotation, but left it alone. Then one day Jace sat next to them. His grin was so broad and inviting they almost missed that it was entirely fake. But Jace’s eyes gave it away, they shone with a vast terror as though he expected the world to give way under his feet. And with the state of the sector perhaps he was right to fear. 

“Scion Sokrates,” Jace greeted them.

“Just Sokrates is fine,” they replied, “I gave up my title when I joined this mission.”   


“Well then, just Sokrates, welcome to the team,” he grinned, teasing but kind and Sokrates felt their heart skip a beat. Just like that they’d become hung up on Jace, beautiful, sad-eyed Jace who tried to make them laugh, to bring joy into the terrible war they were trapped in. He sat with them frequently throughout the next few weeks, and each time, Sokrates found themselves tongue tied and blushing in a way they were entirely unfamiliar with. 

Those lunches were a moment of light in a mostly lonely existence, avoiding even their own crew. The isolation was the worst part, until Ibex showed up. The Apostalisian crew they led were barely a crew at all; the mismatched group on the Calliope lacked the bonds of a long-working crew or the synergy of a carefully crafted team. They were a mess of deserters, pulled together by desperation in the midst of a war which spanned beyond any of them. There was a reason Sokrates had been taking meals alone. They remembered overhearing, near the beginning of the mission, their own crew members gossiping and about them.

“I don’t trust the scion,” one had said, “we don’t know why they’re here. They could easily be a spy for the Apokine. Sent to betray us all!”

“You don’t really believe that?” a second gasped.

“Why wouldn’t I? They haven’t proven themselves. A scientist who’s never so much as seen a real fight. They’ll go running home when the real danger arrives.”

“I wouldn’t worry about betrayal,” a third voice interrupted, “their incompetence can kill us all just as easily.”

After that, Sokrates avoided their own crew as much as the other two. They seemed to speak with no one besides Jace anymore. Jace, who increasingly made their heart jump just by walking in the room. It was foolish. Foolish, but so enjoyable. And why shouldn’t they take little joys where they could.

Then the Candidate of Righteousness walked onto their ship with that cocky grin of his, after threatening innocent people, and flipped everything upside down. Even Addax knew not to trust Ibex. The fisherman, he liked to call himself, Sokrates shuddered at the thought. 

The only positive aspect of his arrival was that it brought the rest of the crew together. Suddenly they were united by the presence of a common enemy. 

It was Jace who approached them with a whispered invitation to meet in the safety of Peace. Sokrates wasn’t sure what to make of it, but they went that night to Addax’s room in Peace. The glowing gold halls hummed as they walked through, Sokrates almost thought they could pick out the melody of a lullaby their parent used to sing them. It comforted them. 

Addax’s room stood out, the only door standing tall at the end of the hall. Sokrates knocked and it echoed briefly before the door was pulled open. Addax’s grim face greeted them. 

“Come in.”

“Hello to you too,” Sokrates muttered. They looked around the room, surprisingly large for such a small ship, though Sokrates supposed it made sense. Divines were made to hold one, they could afford to devote all their space to the single, perhaps only room. The room was bare, one could almost call it plain except that the walls were gold and covered in intricate repeating patterns, crystalline cubes refracting out.  Sokrates gave Jace a brief smile when they noticed him sitting. He was on the bed, the only piece of furniture in the room.

“Now that we're all here,” Addax began. 

“All? You mean it’s just the three of us? What about Orth?”

“Orth can’t be trusted,” Addax said, “I’ve seen him in meetings with Ibex. The man has no spine, he should of never have been put in charge of this mission.”

“He’s a good pilot,” Jace defended “He just wasn’t cut out for the politics of command. And Ibex is just too charismatic, he’ll be drawn in.”

“Why am I here?” Sokrates asked, “I know you don't trust me.”

“Maybe not, but I know you by now. You wouldn’t join Ibex. Maybe you’re with us, maybe you’re with the empire, but that fool…” Addax chuckled.

Sokrates sat silently and felt a warmth grow in their chest. It was just a tiny crush, they reminded themself, they couldn’t afford to get distracted.

There were a few strange weeks of truce which followed. Sokrates would pass Addax in the ships’ halls and rather than be faced with his glare they received a polite nod — once, even a smile.

Then one night Sokrates arrived at Jace’s room for one of their scheduled meetings to find the two men kissing. They sat next to each other on the edge of the bed, sweet and soft, and if they weren’t just the prettiest thing Sokrates had seen. Their heart picked up in some strange combination of lust, jealousy and embarrassment. Then the two noticed Sokrates and the peace of the scene was broken, they pulled apart and Jace turned bright red. 

“I- um that is we-” he began to stammer.

“No, no, I understand,” Sokrates said, “I’m sorry for intruding. I should have knocked. I’ll leave you two to…”

They trailed off, unsure, then turned. Their hand was on the door when Addax spoke.

“You don’t have to leave.”

“I don’t- what?”

“You could stay,” Addax continued calmly, like he hadn’t said the most absurd sentence Sokrates had heard.

“Oh yeah, I’ll just sit here and watch you to make out, for sure,” they joked. The thought was appealing in a way Sokrates didn’t want to admit.

“No, not like that,” Addax paused, “We were just talking about you.”

“Great, more gossip. I’m not about to betray you, you know! I know you all think, just because I’m Apostolisian-”

“That’s not really… the kind of talking we were doing,” Jace interrupted, “we were talking about how attractive you were. About how, well, we both really like you and really like each other so maybe that could be, something.”

“Oh, you were, oh,” Sokrates wasn’t used to being at a loss for words. They felt their face turn red, “You should have said something so much sooner.”


End file.
